ROOTS - DAY USC

We are a campus chapter at the University of Southern California of the nonprofit organization Dear Asian Youth, dedicated to uplifting and empowering the narratives of Asian youth across the globe Our mission is to make an impact at USC and in the greater LA area by providing a place for creatives and activists to share their voice

Editor’s Note

We’re all from somewhere

The Asian Pacific Islander Desi American community spans decades and generations across the history of America, and even longer when we consider our ancestral roots With so many years lived and so many places we might call home, our community is composed of stories as diverse, tragic, beautiful, and great as the people they belong to.

The settings and individuals who birthed us and our stories today have likely all played an integral role, whether good or bad, in our experiences and dreams. An old proverb says, “Those who drink the water must remember those who dug the well.” Many of the stories shared in this magazine highlight experiences as a consequence of the dreams chased by those that came before immigrants, children of immigrants, refugees, generations that came with nothing but a work ethic and hope. They, in a way, make up the roots of our stories that are continuously being shaped today.

But roots don’t make up the entire tree they are the first step in a cycle of growth that leads to the leaves that change color and flowers that bloom. So while this collection of art, media, and writing honors our metaphorical roots of the cultures and heritage of the APIDA community, it also honors the dreams, fears, victories, and battles of the APIDA community today and tomorrow.

We’re all from somewhere. But we’re all headed somewhere even greater.

Happy reading!

This is Dear Asian Youth USC’s literary magazine in honor of the Asian Pacific American Heritage Festival, an annual series of programming at the University of Southern California put on by the Asian Pacific American Student Assembly mag spread designed by: Peony Duong & Yi-Ann Li

Table of Contents

WHEN WE SAY "ASIAN AMERICAN" WE ARE TALKING ABOUT SO MUCH MORE THAN CAN BE FIT IN A SINGLE STEREOTYPE

Ijeoma Oluo

POE TRY

UBE VILLANELLE Joseph Caluya

How can I not embrace

This aesthetic collision Of color and flavor; my taste buds are amazed.

Nostalgia of my childhood days, With each bite I envision

The endless blankets of purple engulfing me in a warm embrace.

I finally give myself long-overdue praise, Aim to bring into fruition

The fact that I, too, can amaze.

Reminiscent of Manila streets bathed in amber haze, People flaunting their joyful disposition–A part of me I’m not ashamed to embrace.

Some will mock and sneer, but who cares? I’m unfazed. Little do they know of this punchy purple ammunition; I was born to only amaze.

I carry the silent confidence in my parents’ gaze, Conviction in my decision

To fully embrace This purple yam that I am, never ceasing to amaze.

A poem about how amazing ube is and how I'm proud that it is a part of my culture

i had to train my parents to say “i love you” and for years i was bitter they couldn’t love me the same way other parents did their own now i wish i could go back and tell them their love was always enough

i just couldn’t see past the generational trauma to see the unspoken all the i love you’s in the bowls of fruit cut just the way i like them

LOVE LANGUAGE OF IMMIGRANT PARENTS Yi-Ann Li

the one less bite of pork on their plate so i could have more for lunch the next day a new cut on a finger from sewing up my choir dress that didn’t fit quite right

the shuffling i heard from their room after finishing homework at 2am because they couldn’t sleep until i did too the constant hand at their back sore from driving me from piano lessons to swim practice to rehearsal the worn down shoes they wear to work because they spent that money on a new pair for me

i’m so sorry that after years of giving up your life crossing an ocean for a better life for me

i couldn’t bother to learn your love language

“i love you”

“i love you too”

“i love you three.”

HALMONI AND ME Jessica Tadokoro

Our relationship is complex. a towering wall stands between us and no matter how many times we cry out to each other, english slams into brick, korean collides with concrete and they never quite reach the other side. i face the mocking wall before me: korean characters flash in nonsensical patterns before my eyes, incoherent phrases and intonations ring in my ears, taunting me as i drown in guilt, isolation, shame, and anxiety.

Our relationship is complex. but maybe not as complex as i thought! ten-year-old me was so transfixed on that daunting language barrier, so blind to the cracks hiding in that seemingly impenetrable wall, so deaf to the Love that squeezed through those crevices. but now, if i shut my eyes, open my heart and focus, i can hear my halmoni’s determined, never-ending affection reaching me in whispers, wrapping me in Love even though i’m standing on the other side of the wall.

i don’t have to speak korean to know her Love.

i feel it in every embrace: her strong hands firmly patting my back, her small frame enveloping my own in such strength.

i see it in every encouraging smile: the proud, adoring glow lighting up her eyes as she gazes at her granddaughter.

i taste it in every mouth-watering meal she cooks: her mandu stuffed with meat, vegetables and care, her tteokguk bursting with flavor and warmth.

i hear it in every phone call: audible kindness fills the gaps in her broken english and joy radiates from her gentle laugh. all along, this is how she was saying “jessica, I Love You.”

Our relationship is complex. yes, that battered wall still stands today but it’s crumbling, crumbling, crumbling: soft clay disintegrates in my outstretched fingers, fragmented rubble piles at my feet. 18 years later, the barrier is finally tumbling down.

18 years later, i realized our relationship is characterized by Love:

the one language we do share and the most powerful one of all. it extends across generations and shatters mountains of stone

and it’s the one that will never fail my halmoni and me.

U N T I T L E D ]

I found myself born in a situation that many wou A situation that people would envy, kin to a fath What some would say is a blessing, I would say Where there is a shining light of hope to some, th Trying hard to be proud of my background, yet Reflecting on that success, looming all my life. Reflected on how lost I am in my own life.

Chris Kwon

uld be proud of. er with Olympic Gold. is a curse looming. here is a dark shadow lurking. being shameful of it at the same time.

MED IA

MRS. JADE Tammi Sison

Back in high school, I watched a short video on kintsugi, the Japanese technique of fixing broken things with gold---making what's broken, beautiful again---and I felt inspired to make a piece connecting this idea to the many self image issues I've struggled with as a Filipino American immigrant I can never forget the constant weirdness and ugliness I felt as a child, and it was a wild experience growing up to see these same features I despised being commercialized and bastardized by Western media---and in culture, even romance, becoming afraid of being a fetish

I created Mrs. Jade as a symbol of the feelings I had felt and still feel today, from this brokenness, to healing, to understanding the complexity of beauty, trying to distinguish what issues come fromwithin and those coming fromthe ravages of visual culture

ANISHA THAI

Mindy Dang

In my art and design practice, I go out of my way to showcase Asian American representation. When I worked at an LA-based magazine called New Face, I deliberately featured Asian American models from the vast pools of submissions.

In this particular piece, the model is Anisha Thai, a Vietnamese and Comorian model and artist. I wanted to focus on Anisha in the rawest and most authentic way, thus the simplicity of the spread.

As my mother's daughter, with her heritage, misfortunes, artistry and all, it's by her I write. Her lyricism and warmth, by which I merely inspire to mimic.

O R A N G E S

PRO SE

FOR CONSIDERATION Heidi Arromdee

Food, religion, and numerous art forms. Those three topics headline many articles upon looking up “Thai culture” But these writings lack perspective Culture is something that is developed over time, through lived experiences that involve sharing and learning.

For someone who has lived in a Thai Chinese household that consists of waking up to Thai congee on Saturday mornings and exchanging Thailish daily, my culture can be difficult to describe in one phrase because my experiences differ. For one, I understand that the opportunities I’m given and the challenges I face are not the same as Thai natives. I understand that I look plainly American to Thais, but not quite American enough to easily fit into the school cliques of soccer girls and socialites. I understand that I may never be able to recognize subtle Thai inside jokes because my few fellow Thai Americans and I didn’t grow up learning them. I understand that my Thailish can be considered “strange” as I fumble over certain words because I can’t remember the phrase in Thai or English. I understand that my tanned skin is unappealing to most Thais but a desired trait to most Americans.

So when people ask me about my culture and background, it might be easier now to recognize why I hesitate. Do I say that I’m Thai, Thai American, Thai Chinese American, or American? Because while I speak the language, listen to the music, and have a family in Thailand, my life mainly comprises Thailish-speaking friends who gush about Taylor Swift over highlysweetened Thai tea in quaint boba shops and McDonald’s soft serves in dimly-lit parking lots and parents who enjoy shows from both Workpoint Entertainment and at The Pantages.

It may be assumed that people rotate identities depending on who they’re with, but that’s not the case. In all these scenarios, the identities and cultural upbringings remain, but it’s how the other party responds, that varies. It’s simple to say that people should not be insensitive or prejudiced against others’ notions of living, but it’s different to encourage them to exhibit cultural understanding. Because at the end of the day, the information that is passed on to future generations and beyond social circles is the one that’s most wellunderstood and acted on. Therefore, people should not only be receptive to other cultures but also not look down upon and talk behind those who have distinct lived experiences - especially when only synopses are given.

陈兴益：MY CHINESE NAME Eric Chen

Growing up Asian American was hard in some ways because it felt like I didn't completely fit in with my Chinese side or my American side. And unlike a lot of the Chinese American kids I grew up around, my parents never really spoke Chinese with us at home, so me and my brother didn't have Chinese names when we were young.

The story of my Chinese name represents the role that the language barrier has played in different stages of my life, including challenges with my identity, communicating with my relatives, and reconnection with my heritage. Now after getting to know my heritage language better, I've come to terms with how my Chinese name is pretty much just a homonym for "Chen #1" and I think it's pretty funny.

奶奶（Grandma）： “Ei-ru-yi-ke?Eh-li-ke?Ma-ke-suhandEh-ri-ke.” Eric? Eric? Max and Eric

叔叔（Uncle）： “他们有中⽂名字吗？” Do they have Chinese names?

Dad： “啊，有点难说哈哈哈。 ”

Ah, their English names are a little hard to pronounce haha

[Pointingatmyolderbrother]“那你们可以叫他们。。。陈兴⼀ 。。。 ” Then call them Chen Xing 1

[Pattingmyhead]“和陈兴⼆!” And Chen Xing 2!

Everyone： “哈哈哈” Laughter

Mom： “好吧好吧，那我们给他们说。 ” Ok,ok,thenwe’regoingtotellthemnow

“Max,Eric 爷爷奶奶 (grandpa,grandma)，叔叔阿姨 (uncle,andauntie)can't speakEnglishtoowellsotheycan’tsayyourEnglishnames Theywillcallyou 陈兴⼀ (ChenXing1)and 陈兴⼆ (ChenXing2)， OK？”

Eric: [Annoyed]“Iknowmom,Icanunderstandthatmuch!”

奶奶（Grandma）： “哎呀哈哈哈，真的是宝宝乖呀。 ” Aiyah haha, he really is our cute little grandson.

爷爷（Grandpa）： “太好笑了哈哈。 ” Too funny haha.

婶婶: “啊他们可以讲中⽂吗？懂不懂？” Can they speak Chinese at all? Do they understand any?

Dad： “他们不懂，什么就可以说” They don’t speak, you can say anything

Eric： “Hey!Wecanunderstand,rightMax?Right?”

Max： [Stickshistongueout,pointsandlaughsatme]

[WHEN I WAS 8, APARTMENT COMPLEX IN KUNMING, CHINA]

[SEVERAL YEARS LATER AT HOME, DINNER]

Mom: “So，我的⼩宝宝 (my baby boy)，how was school?”

Eric: “It was ok…”

“I think I need a Chinese name though”

Dad: “For your Chinese class? Can you just go by your English name?”

Eric: “We were introducing ourselves today and everyone already has Chinese names. Even the white kids do because it's Chinese 2 and they all took Chinese already. The closest thing I have is when I was in China and everyone called me 陈兴⼆ (Chen Xing 2) so 冯⽼师 (teacher) told me to ask you”

Mom: “How about ？It’s a very powerful -. ”

Dad: “啊呀 (Aiyah)，that doesn’t make any sense it doesn't even have his middle name in it, what about ？” [minutes of bickering]

Dad: “因为 Eric 的表亲叫兴悦和兴愿，⽽且 Max ⽤的名字就是兴宇， 我们应该要选⼀个相似的名字对不对？⽐如陈兴益？”

Eric's cousins' names are Xingyue and Xingyuan and when Max was taking Chinese he used the name Xingyu, so doesn’t it make more sense that we make his name similar? Like Chen Xingyi?

Mom: “那你说的是什么‘益’哪？” Then which “yi” character?

Dad： “利益的益。 ” “Yi” as in “benefit.”

Mom： “OK。Eric what do you think about 陈兴益 (Chen Xingyi)？It means ”

[SENIOR YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL, HOTPOT RESTAURANT]

Selena: “Oh yeah that was Emily’s Chinese name, right Erin? Wow your parents gave you two such cute Chinese names!”

Zoe: “I know right? 张苗苗 (Zhang Miaomiao) is such a cute name!”

冯⽼师 (teacher): “对啊，Zoe，your sister’s name was… 柳虹影是的？ 有 Eric -- 哦，我忘记了，你哥哥 的中⽂名字是什呀？” Ah, Zoe, your sister was Liu Hongying right? And Eric -- Oh I forgot, can you remind me what your older brother’s Chinese name was?

Eric: “I think it was 陈兴⽉ (Chen Xingyue)？Wait no I think it was 陈兴宇 (Chen Xingyu), we didn’t really use them at home.”

Selena: “Oh that’s very similar. Was there, like, any reason for that?”

Eric： “Actually, yeah, so there's a funny story behind it…”

RANKING Audrey Xia

THE MOST COMMONLY USED CHINESE CHARACTERS BY HOW DATABLE THEY ARE

Growing up in a predominately white community, I had a lot of selfinternalized racism toward my heritage. I wasn't proud of being ChineseAmerican. However, through engaging in my culture more, I've become proud of who I am and my heritage -- our food, literature, holidays, and more. [This piece is] not very deep or insightful, but I thought it was funny and represented how I've found to love and appreciate the Chinese language, even though in a very troll-ish way.

的 (possessive article, of)

- Always mistaken for his triplets

- Everyone asks himfor help

- He always ends up helping everyone even though it’s not his job because he derives his only sense of worthiness frombeing useful to someone

- People take himfor granted

- Looking for the one to truly love and appreciate himfor once

- Thoughtfulness: ★★★★★

- Humor: ★

- Intelligence: ★★★

- Honesty: ★★★

- Commitment: ★★★★

- Looks: ★★★

- Maturity: ★★★★★

是 (yes, is, are)

- Went to the army right after high school

- Very commanding

- Has OCD and must have the dishes cleaned in HIS way

- Likes to give orders

- Makes up a bunch of stories about how he saved people in war but he just sat on a ship and looked out for “enemies”

- Looking for anyone tbh

- Thoughtfulness: ★★

- Humor: ★★★★★

- Intelligence: ★★

- Honesty: ★★★★★

- Commitment: ★★★

- Looks: ★★★

- Maturity: ★★★

⼀ (one)

- Has a huge ego because he’s number one

- School jock

- Youtuber with a fanbase of preteens

- Very robust abs

- Made it to the top of the social chain by a combination of treachery and betrayal

- No real friends

- Looking for someone to rule over his kingdom with

- Thoughtfulness: ★

- Humor: ★★★★

- Intelligence: ★★

- Honesty: ★★

- Commitment: ★

- Looks: ★★★★★

- Maturity: ★★

REFLECTIONS Patrick Fang

I’ve been very preoccupied these past few weeks by a few provocative lines from this Eater article, which otherwise is a very harmless recounting about the development of boba culture among Asian American youth. The article references Twitter user @diaspora_is_red and their particularly scathing critique of boba liberalism, which they defined partly as “wanting to reconnect with your roots by [ ] drinking bubble tea, getting added to subtle asian traits, and organizing fundraisers for your asian student association, but never studying your history and feeling solidarity with your homeland against imperialism.” Or more succinctly: “All sugar, no substance.”

I have to say that my first reaction on reading those lines was defensiveness—unbidden protests sprang to mind that these “Asian” things I’d been doing couldn’t possibly be so cheap. My sense of my Asian culture itself borne out in comfortable, middle class, Asian-saturated Silicon Valley—couldn’t possibly be so cheap. But how else to account for the comical lack of effort I invested into my Chinese classes (and how much that’s eaten away at me since); my oblivious drive to “be” the Model Minority, and even the way I approached food so gleeful was I kurato label some foods “trash” or proclaim some cuisines superior to others.

My transgressions extended beyond Asianness alone: two of my biggest offenses that come to mind are the hip-hop music I consumed and tossed aside without any deference or understanding, and my (thankfully) brief stint of eating up Ben Shapiro and Steven Crowder, from where I was fed the sickly sweet delusion of a “no longer racist America” and the profund achievability of the American Dream for “all those who worked hard enough”?

For most of my life, what effort had I really applied myself to understanding the meaning the cost to what being an Asian American means? To what being a POC means?

I understand more of it now, thankfully. To those of you who are further along this journey, I hope you’ll be patient with me. And to those of you at a similar point, or who are just starting out, I wish you nothing but the best for your own reflections

I only hope to keep educating myself on colonialism: how the hegemonies of yesterday created global systems of extraction and subjugation that produced economic prosperity for Western powers at the expense of the lives, opportunity, and dignity of the Global South everywhere How that legacy endures unto today I only hope to keep educating myself on the immigrant experience: what the histories do and don’t tell about yesterday’s wars; the traumas they pushed unto generations to come (my family included); and of course, the victories that emerged nonetheless I only hope to keep educating myself on antiracism, feminism, LGBTQ+ inclusivity and more: and how to reconcile my own identity, as privileged as it is in so many respects, with the prejudices I’ve held and certainly still do hold, and how I can ultimately become a meaningful agent of change.

To be a better Asian American.

To be a better American.

To be a better, fucking, person

THE FLIGHT Andrew Kim

I kept thinking about what my dad had told me several weeks before the trip. “If you can’t speak Korean, you’re going to be a stranger,” he had said, with a hint of what I thought was judgment in his voice. He had let out a quiet scoff. “How are you going to talk to your grandparents?”

You’re going to be a stranger.

That comment weighed down on me more than it should have. I thought about it throughout the days leading up to my flight. It replayed in my mind as I went through airport security. And again when the plane started to leave for takeoff.

“Are you excited?” my older sister asked me softly from the side. It brought me out of my stuporous state of tension, and it occurred to me that the sound of the plane’s engine was not coming from inside my head.

For a second, I didn’t know how to answer. Oh, right, I thought. I’m supposed to be more hyped up than nervous for this trip.

“Yeah, can’t wait to get there,” I replied, feeling like I was slightly lying. We talked a little more about the places we wanted to go to and the food we wanted to eat, and I remembered why I was initially excited to visit Korea for the first time. Discussing our most prioritized shopping malls helped me block out the anxious thoughts that have been accumulating inside me for a long time.

A few hours later into the flight, I noticed that my mom wasn’t trying to sleep. She looked deep in thought and not at all tired.

“Are you excited, Mom?” I echoed my sister. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen Haejin-samchon, right?”

She smiled at me. “I think the last time was when you were a toddler,” she reminisced. “Did you know that he was a singer? He released an album many years ago”

“Really?” I was shocked to hear such a thing I wondered if I was related to someone who was famous, and I never knew this whole time

“Yeah He’ll be singing during his wedding, so you’ll get to hear how amazing his voice is” There was a sense of pride in her voice as she said that

The thought of meeting my uncle made me feel nervous again, and it must’ve shown somehow in my body language, because my mom took my hand and gave me a sweet smile. “Stop worrying,” she consoled me. “Your relatives are your family. They would love to show you around.”

Just like the one from my dad, my mom’s comment fought for dominance inside my mind It’s true I was a part of the family, even if we weren’t going to communicate well Settling for a more peaceful state of mind, I let my mom’s reassurance run through me as I went to sleep for the rest of the flight

It worked until the flight was over, and my sister, my mom, and I were pushed into the Incheon International Airport I was fascinated by the beauty and size of the place It was clean and decorated with intricate designs, and the overall light blue-ish theme somehow screamed “business” at you While I remained fixated on the new atmosphere as we walked through the terminal, we were eventually stopped by an airport attendant.

“Passport, please,” he said in Korean.

I blinked at him. I knew the word for passport, but it still took me a second to understand him.

It was a second too long “Your passport?” he said again, this time in English The look on his face resembled one of confusion and what looked like a bit of judgment

“Ah, yes” I rummaged through my bag, feeling stupid Now he knows

After that interaction, the thoughts returned again

You’re going to be a stranger

i can only comment on my experience but i wanted the piece to be a discussion on the notion that even though i was raised in a traditional asian household, the “american” part of “asian american” (or perhaps it could be the other way around?) can really serve to bring a conflicting dual identity growing up. it’s meant to represent part of my journey of reconciling these two identities, and this trip, because it was my first time, was a significant realization for me that i have a long journey ahead of me in terms of accepting the way i grew up and how my environment shaped me

HOW I FELT MORE KOREAN IN THE UNITED STATES Bryan Choi

Hey there! So, I grew up in South Korea but moved to the United States when I was in 5th grade. I didn't know much about American culture, except for what I saw in Tom & Jerry and Hollywood movies But, I adapted quickly and became immersed in American life Still, I made sure to hold on to my Korean identity One thing I did was volunteering as a Korean teacher at the Southern California Korean Institute, which was a great way for me to explore my heritage and interact with tons of students who also wanted to learn the Korean alphabet (한글)

As I got more interested in Korean culture, I started doing research and writing about it. I wrote about things like the history of Korea and the importance of unifying the Korean peninsula I wanted to raise awareness about forgotten tragedies that happened during the colonization of Korea

One of the biggest things that happened to me was getting nominated for the Young Leaders of Unification Seminar. I got to meet students from North Korea and talk to them about how we can work together to achieve peace and harmony. It was eye-opening to see that, even though we come from different places and have different backgrounds, we're really not that different after all

What I learned from that experience is that we tend to make things more complicated than they need to be If we just break down those initial barriers and try to work together, we can accomplish a lot. And, of course, having empathy and understanding is key.

This was my journey in how I made sure the Korean identity within me did not diminish living in the United States What was your story like?

WHAT DOES BEING ASIAN MEAN TO YOU?

blurbs from DAY on culture, heritage, and the Asian identity

Cooking has given me a new appreciation for my culture because Asian food makes me happy. -

I am proud of my heritage and culture and it plays a significant role in shaping my identity. -

Stephanie

Peony

I used to hate my name because it sounded ethnic and was hyphenated weirdly. But now I see the hyphen as something that encompasses the experiences that have shaped me - Asian and American - and how that can be a beautiful thing. -

Yi-Ann

One thing I love about being an Asian American is the sense of community and interconnectedness with other people through shared interests and experiences. - Brandon

Yi-Ann Li

Peony Duong

Joseph Caluya

Jessica Tadokoro

Chris Kwon

Jeen Lee

Mindy Dang

Tammi Sison

Heidi Arromdee

Eric Chen

Patrick Fang

Audrey Xia

Andrew Kim

Bryan Choi

Stephanie Tong

Brandon Wong

Dear Asian Youth USC is a campus chapter at the University of Southern California of the nonprofit organization Dear Asian Youth, dedicated to uplifting and empowering the narratives of Asian youth across the globe Our mission is to make an impact at USC and in the greater LA area by providing a place for creatives and activists to share their voice.